Breaking and Mending
by mirkwood cat
Summary: from Lothlorien to Helms Deep... the story of a friendship between elf and dwarf
1. From Lothlorien to Edoras

Hello everybody!!! Newest story of mine. It is neither movie nor book verse but a mixture of both so do not wonder if words and actions differ from the movie. you can find it in the book!!!  
  
As always special thanks to Litlle My for beta reading!!!  
  
And I promise. Encounters with the past will be continued soon!!!  
  
So.. read on and do not forget to tell me if you like it!!!  
  
___  
  
Laying Boromir to rest was a painful task and as the last note of the song Aragorn had sung faded so did the boat that carried the man of Gondor from sight. Gimli's eyes turned from the man, who was putting on the wrist guards that bore the sign of Gondor, to the elf. His face still held that strange mixture of disbelief and grief, as if he did not yet fully understand what had come to pass. His eyes met Gimli's and held them for a moment ere he turned and moved away, running over to the remaining boat. But even as he readied it, Gimli realized that Aragorn had not moved. The dwarf looked at him again, noticing the defeat in his eyes.  
  
'You mean not to follow them?'  
  
No, they would not. The decision was not an easy one to make, but Aragorn's words rang true.  
  
'Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands.'  
  
The Fellowship had broken. The price for having come even this far had been a high one. Gandalf and Boromir, both lost, and Frodo and Sam were on their own now.  
  
And Merry and Pippin. the thought of these two in the hands of those foul beasts was hard on Gimli's heart and he could see the same in his companion's eyes.  
  
When Aragorn asked them to leave everything behind and follow him, Gimli was ready to do so. His eyes met Legolas's, waiting for his reaction, seeing the emotions warring there. But when the dwarf let out a cry of challenge, he could see the slightest hint of a smile play around the elf's lips. And as he turned to run after Aragorn, he knew the elf would follow him.  
  
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They moved on for hours, alternating between running and walking but never stopping. Lembas was all the food they took, and tasting the delicious elven waybread was the only delight Gimli knew in these dark hours. Despite his occasional grumbling, he had no real trouble keeping up with his companions; dwarves might be of shorter stature than man or elf but did not lack endurance. It would take more than this, Gimli thought to himself, for him to give in.  
  
They followed Aragorn's lead; a matter that had surprised Gimli in the beginning. Surely the keen eyes of an elf would see the trail they followed even better than those of a man, even if he was a ranger? But Legolas seemed content to follow Aragorn so Gimli did not question this decision. But he did not miss the elf's eyes checking the trail even as he ran behind the man. And Aragorn seemed to trust the elf's senses, for several times he asked him for his opinion.  
  
Sometimes it seemed that the elf tired of keeping pace with the mortals and then his swift feet would carry him away, easily overtaking Aragorn and running ahead only to slow down after some time and wait for them. In these moments, Gimli could feel the old annoyance resurface at this nimble being that seemed not to be bothered by the restrictions mortals had to endure. Walking on snow, running like the wind and never in need of sleep. Had he not come to like the elf, he would surely loathe him.  
  
Finding the brooch of Lorien, in the middle of the destruction brought upon the green of Rohan by the passing of these foul creatures, brought hope that had started to dim back into their hearts.  
  
Hope that would soon be brutally squashed again.  
  
@@@  
  
Hiding from the approaching riders seemed like a good idea to Gimli. Seeing Aragorn stepping out and calling to them seemed a little bit more questionable, and he exchanged a quick glance with Legolas. But the elf seemed unperturbed, his trust in the man obviously unshakable.  
  
So they stood next to Aragorn, Gimli's hand on his axe but refraining from any movement that might be interpreted as aggression. Being surrounded by horses made the dwarf feel more uncomfortable than he would have liked to admit, and the grim riders pointing lances at them did not help. Legolas stood next to him and the elf's calmness eased Gimli's mind.  
  
He listened to the words exchanged between Aragorn and the leader of the Rohirrim, and only the insult spoken by Eomer against the Lady Galadriel finally caused the dwarf's temper to rise.  
  
'You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you.'  
  
'I would cut off your head, beard and all, master dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground.' Eomer's threat was not without heat and the riders surrounding them seemed to tense.  
  
There was a blur of motion next to Gimli, and in less than the blink of an eye Legolas had nocked an arrow, pointing it at the horse lord's head. The riders reacted in an instant, their lances turning on the elf whose eyes flashed at Eomer, ignoring the danger he found himself in.  
  
'He stands not alone. You would die before your stroke fell.' A voice not loud, but deadly in its determination and leaving no doubt about the truth of his statement.  
  
For a moment Gimli's heart constricted; the deadly danger Legolas had maneuvered himself into to protect him erased any anger he had felt against Eomer, leaving only the sudden fear of losing his companion. He had never seen Legolas react like this, seemingly without thought of what consequences his move might evoke.  
  
For a few heartbeats the situation seemed hopeless as the elf's arrow did not waver from its target. The tips of the lances almost touched his head and neck, ready to end his life should he give any indication of letting the arrow fly. Yet Gimli knew as well as anybody else here that Eomer would be dead long ere the elf would fall.  
  
Then Aragorn's hand came up, forcing down Legolas's bow and the elf relented. His eyes stayed fixed on Eomer, letting the man know the threat was not forgotten.  
  
Letting out a deep breath he only now realized he had held, Gimli relaxed, casting a quick look sideways. The elf still seemed tense but the arrow was loose in his hand now; the short moment of danger had passed.  
  
So Legolas did indeed posses some kind of temper, Gimli realized. He had come to know the elf quite well during their stay in Lorien, but this side of him he had not seen before. A grin formed on his face as the possibility of using this new knowledge about his friend came to mind. For friends they had become, he realized, no matter how strange a thing it seemed. Friends close enough that one of them would endanger his own life to stand up for the other.  
  
But Eomer's next words drove the smile from the dwarf's face.  
  
'We found none but orcs.'  
  
Hope that had flared died upon hearing these words. While knowing the hobbits to be prisoners had been hard enough, to think them dead was unbearable. With disbelief Gimli looked up at Aragorn, seeing his own emotions mirrored there--denial as well as shock. He refrained from glancing at Legolas, knowing the look of grief that would be on the elf's face was more than he could bear right now.  
  
In silence he stood, as Aragorn finally succeeded in persuading the horse lord to let them have two of their horses.  
  
Legolas's hand grasped his, and with a surprising strength not expected in someone of such slight build he heaved the dwarf up onto the horse to sit behind him. His fear and unease caused Gimli's arms to wrap tightly around the slim waist but Legolas seemed not to be bothered by the tight grip.  
  
There was a moment of deep sorrow to find the hobbit's belt within the smoldering remains, and Aragorn's cry of outrage and dismay echoed through the stillness of the day. Gimli could hear Legolas whispering words in his own tongue and this time he saw the grief upon his fair features. He could not help but wonder how all this affected the elf. He had witnessed his deep grief over Gandalf and a slight fear formed as he wondered how he dealt with the losses of the past days.  
  
Yet once more hope was returned to them as Aragorn's eyes found the trail the fleeing hobbits had left.  
  
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It was frightening how easily the white wizard overpowered them. Even Legolas's elven speed was no match for him, and they stood frozen until the mist clouding their vision cleared and they could finally see the features of the one before them. Familiar yet different; the blinding white transforming the one they had known so well.  
  
'How?' Aragorn's voice spoke for them all as he stood, staring in disbelief at the one they had all seen fall into the bottomless depths of Khazad- dûm.  
  
But Legolas seemed not to have any doubt as he sank to his knees, his face brightened by a smile. Never before had Gimli seen him like this, seemingly glowing as his delight in seeing the wizard again radiated from him without the need of words, his position one of deepest deference.  
  
Gimli bowed his head, showing his respect for the wizard as his eyes closed for a moment in relief and joy.  
  
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Edoras was well built, even to the eyes of a dwarf. The welcome was frosty, and only reluctantly did Gimli let go of his axe. He could see Legolas unsheathing his knifes with a quick movement that might have been taken as threatening had it not been too quick to give anyone time to react ere he had handed them over. His bow he gave away only with warning words as it was a present from the Lady Galadriel.  
  
Gandalf's refusal to hand over his staff was highly amusing, and Gimli could see the suppressed laughter in Legolas's eyes as he offered his arm to the old man to lead him into the golden hall. Aragorn's lips twitched but he kept a straight face as he followed the elf who walked slowly with Gandalf leaning on him.  
  
To dispatch those that tried to block their way was easily done, as the ones still true to their king held back, watching the scene unfold without interfering. Too long Grima had played his games, and too dire had the situation in Rohan become, for them to not hope for the help Gandalf might offer. And in the end, their trust in the wizard was proven to be well placed.  
  
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A hot meal and ale after so many days without were a delight Gimli savored as he ate slowly and with relish. Aragorn only took a few bites, his mind obviously more on the discussion with the king than on food. And Legolas only stood, a silent presence at their side who spoke not but watched from his place leaning against the column to Aragorn's right. He took no food, and once more Gimli wondered what elves lived on.  
  
King Theoden was a great man, but his situation was dire and he did not wish for an open fight. Aragorn's opinion was not wanted and the king's decision to leave for Helm's Deep could not be shaken.  
  
So they left--a group of men and women, carrying their wounded and children, their fear a cloud that had settled over them.  
  
Legolas had disappeared to scout ahead; he seemed ill at ease in the company of men, Gimli realized. Alone on a horse for the first time in his life, Gimli begrudged him for leaving him in this situation but found himself drawn into conversation with Eowyn. He missed not her frequent glances towards Aragorn as she seemed quite taken with him. Then the warning cry came.  
  
'Wargs!'  
  
The group parted, only the men on horses staying behind to fend off the attackers. When the command came for the riders to move, Gimli realized Arod was still with them. The horse had not allowed anyone to mount him, much to the irritation of the Rohirrim for he was one of their own horses. Only Aragorn's explanation that a horse once used by an elf would stay with him and allow no other rider seemed to calm their rattled pride.  
  
But Legolas on foot would hardly stand a chance against a group of attacking wargs. Swift with the bow he might be and deadly with his knives, but fighting against such an adversary from the ground with weapons like these could prove to be a great disadvantage.  
  
So it was with little thought of his own fear of horses that Gimli shouted to be helped upon the tall horse, hoping Arod would at least accept him. The horse snorted, his reluctance obvious.  
  
'Stop fighting me, you stupid animal,' Gimli hissed at him. 'Is he your elf, or not? Do you wish to be with him, or stay behind like a frightened deer?'  
  
If he understood the meaning or simply was calmed by the knowing hands of the ones that held him Gimli would never know, although he would never hesitate to choose the latter option. In the end he found himself in the saddle and grabbing the reins, called out: 'Forward! Forward I say!'  
  
Instead of bucking as Gimli feared, for one moment the horse stilled, then suddenly rushed forward, following the other horses. Holding on for dear life, Gimli found himself wondering how he would ever manage to raise his axe if he needed both hands to keep from falling.  
  
Then his eyes turned forward, horrified at their speed and even more so to see the slender form of the elf, standing tall and firing arrow after arrow at the quickly approaching mass of wargs that all seemed to bear down directly at him. The horses reached him and he turned, his gaze finding Gimli as if he had known all the time the dwarf would come. Then he seemed to jump right in front of Arod, and for one frightening moment Gimli expected to hear the sound of breaking bones beneath the hooves of the galloping horse. Then a blur moved to his left and the elf was seated in front of him.  
  
With a breath of relief Gimli let go of the reins, one arm wrapping around the elf's waist. As they raced down towards their foes, a realization dawned. Holding onto the elf like this did not only hamper the dwarf's movements but Legolas's as well. Eyeing the wargs once more, Gimli's decision was made. He let go of the elf, grabbing his axe with both hands to neither lose it nor injure himself, and let himself fall.  
  
Legolas's cry of dismay followed him as he fell, connecting with the ground in a hard but expected impact. He was on his feet again just in time to see a warg approaching. With a flash of glee he readied his axe in sudden desire to let out emotions bottled up during those last days. He never saw Legolas turning his horse around, the elf's worry over his fallen friend driving him back to see for himself that the dwarf had not taken hurt. 


	2. The Way to Helm's Deep

Well, I did not except so many reviews for this story – it is after all only a story retold we all know quite   
well, is it not? :-)))   
So thank you so much !!!  
  
Mira: thanks! Hope you enjoy the next chapters as well…  
  
YunaDax: I must confess I had to ask my dictionary what spiffy means – thanks for the compliment :-)  
  
Stormcat2002: thanks you once more for your nice words… I saw you found my other stories and   
hope you like them!   
  
Bearleft: guess this answers your question :-)  
  
Larkalinque: *beam* thank you!  
  
Mouse: I plan to! And yes, the Gimli/Legolas friendship is one of the best aspects of Tolkiens book…  
  
Gwyn: I hope this chapter is more what you excepted… I for myself do like it better than the first – that   
was more a warm-up to get into the thing… the real action is no doubt at Helms Deep!!!  
  
Moonchild: I will try to slow down for the next chapters… :-) , glad you still liked it!!!  
  
Jay of Lasgalen: yeah, I had to laugh at Gandalf's 'old man' act. The scene was hilarious – and true,   
most missed it – I was the only one laughing, even my husband missed it. And the horse stunt – I have   
watched it endless times since I downloaded the movie but I am still not entirely sure how he does it.   
But it is great – something only an elf can do…hehe  
  
Littlegreenleaf: hope the quick update makes up for the abrupt ending… and encounters will be   
updated soon – promise!  
  
Gemstone: thank you – and yes encounters will be updated soon – promise!   
  
  
for all of you asking for a quick update: for once I managed to do it!  
A big thanks goes to Little My for beta reading!!!  
  
So, on with the story… and please do not forget to let me know if you like it!!!!  
  
____  
  
  
Long fingers curled around the silvery pendant as he stared down into the swirling   
waters beneath him, his heart refusing to accept what his mind told him. Even as   
sharp eyes found the markings where the warg had gone over the cliff, something   
inside of him cried out in denial. Yet the pain of the Evenstar cutting into his skin as   
he tightened his fingers around it was only too real.  
  
Aragorn, lost?   
  
It could not be.  
  
The last from the line of Isildur, the man so much hope had rested upon. Estel.   
  
It could not be.  
  
How long he stood, staring down into the waters that were too far away for him to   
hear what they were speaking of, to ask if it had truly happened, he knew not. And   
when the king of Rohan stopped beside him, he showed no reaction.  
  
'Leave the dead behind.'  
  
Those words brought Legolas's head up, his eyes widening. The King's face held a   
mixture of compassion and determination, his hand resting upon the elf's shoulder for   
just a moment. Legolas found no words of protest as the man turned to walk away.   
But the pain in his hand suddenly seemed dim against the one in his heart.   
  
Leave the dead behind.   
  
His eyes sought Gimli, seeing the grief and sorrow on his face, and he could no   
longer deny the truth.   
  
Aragorn had fallen.  
  
He stood still for a long moment, watching as around him men gathered weapons   
and anything that could be salvaged. Then he moved himself, collecting the arrows   
he had fired, the Lorien fletching easy to distinguish from those made by the hands of   
men.   
  
Without a word he mounted Arod and waited, unmoving, until Gimli joined him. He   
lifted the dwarf up and waited until he felt the by now familiar grip go around his waist   
ere he rode away, following the path Eowyn had taken before them, not caring if the   
other riders were ready to follow or not. He wished to linger no longer in this place of   
death.  
  
They rode in silence, the sound of hooves telling Legolas the Rohirrim were not far   
behind. Yet he did neither turn nor wait for them and Gimli voiced no protest.  
  
The deep grief he felt at the man's passing took him by surprise. He had keenly felt   
the loss of Boromir as he had considered the man a friend, yet it had been nothing   
compared to the deep pain Gandalf's death had caused him. He had not expected   
ever to be as shaken by the death of a mortal as he was now.   
  
He had been wrong. They had shared only a short time together, but had faced too   
much peril to not grow close. Without him ever noticing, he had done what he had   
always been warned of--befriending a mortal could only bring pain.  
  
And pain it was that filled his heart. How had this come to pass? Why had he never   
seen the danger Aragorn had been in?   
  
The Evenstar was safely tucked into his tunic. Made of mithril, it weighed next to   
nothing but still it seemed heavy against his heart. He knew its meaning, knew the   
pledge that had been spoken between Aragorn and Arwen without ever been told.   
Now he would be the one to return it to her, only to see her heart break.   
  
His eyes roamed their surroundings, cautious of another attack although he did not   
expect one. Somehow he knew the danger had passed for now. And enough   
damage had been done. For not only had he lost a friend, but Gondor had lost its   
King. He had never claimed his throne and there would never again be anyone to do   
so. The bloodline had ended here, today, on the plains of Rohan.   
  
For a moment Legolas shut his eyes, a wave of grief washing over him. So much,   
lost. And he wondered if anyone even cared. Did Theoden realize the   
consequences? There was no one left to lead Gondor. As mighty a man as Theoden   
was, he was not the one to unite the armies of Rohan and Gondor, not the one to   
lead them to victory. The only one Legolas would have thought capable of achieving   
this no longer lived.   
  
Men were doomed, and with them Middle Earth.  
  
He shook himself out of his dark thoughts. Not all was lost yet--there was still hope   
left. The ring could still be destroyed and with it Sauron would fall. The grief he felt   
was deep and heavy, but there was no time to give in to it now.   
  
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Helm's Deep was a place Legolas would not have chosen to enter had the situation   
not forced him to do so. But the thick walls spoke of protection, and the elf could not   
shake the feeling that this would be needed soon.   
  
Gimli seemed to visibly relax as he found ground beneath his feet once more, and   
the look he cast around told Legolas he did not share his ill feelings. But grief still   
shone from the dwarf's eyes and it was too much a reminder of his own pain for   
Legolas. So he turned away without a word to lead Arod to the place that was used   
as a stable.   
  
The dwarf's concerned look followed him for a moment before Gimli turned to step in   
front of Eowyn, his heart heavy with the news he had to tell the shieldmaiden of   
Rohan.  
  
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The walls were pressing in on Legolas, and the stares and looks that seemed to   
follow him made him feel even more caged. For a moment the grief that filled his   
heart mixed with a deep longing to be among his own kin, to share his pain with   
someone. Among men as he was, he could not allow himself to let down his guard, to   
show the depth of emotion burning inside.  
  
So he fled, finding the steps that took him up to the battlement and stepped outside.   
Guards stood there, watching out, and they cast him curious looks. An elf among   
men was not oft seen and little did they know of how he had come to be here at all.   
They knew not of the quest and no explanations had been given of how an elf, a   
dwarf and a man had come to travel together.  
  
His obvious friendship with Gimli eased their minds, for dwarves were well respected,   
but still they were wary and Legolas could feel it. He ignored them and found a place   
where he would be undisturbed, his eyes searching the horizon. A frown appeared   
upon his face as he saw the shadow there but he stayed where he was.   
  
He took off his quiver and taking a seat on the parapet, started to check the arrows   
he had collected--a task so unspectacular that he could feel the guards' interest in   
him quickly waning. At least he felt no eyes upon him anymore and finally was able to   
relax. His hands continued their work, but his mind drifted as he tried to let go of his   
grief and prepare himself for the battle he knew was to come.   
  
@@@  
  
The elf had disappeared.  
  
He had not returned after leading the horse away and Gimli started to worry. He   
remembered the elf's grief in Lothlorien well, and feared the effect it would have on   
him now. Taking one last look around, he could still not spot the familiar tall figure   
and with a sigh he left his place at the table, taking his mug of ale with him. Fighting   
always left him hungry, and thirsty even more so, and after a moment's hesitation he   
asked for a goblet of wine. Having found a reason to look for Legolas that would not   
seem as if he cared about the elf's well being overly much, he made his way back   
into the wide hall.   
  
He knew the elf's mind by now, all his quirks and strange habits, so it took him not   
long to find himself taking the stairs leading up.   
  
Halfway up, the soft sound of a song reached his ears and its sadness made his   
heart clench. A lament sung by an elf could move the coldest heart and he was not   
surprised to see the enchanted looks upon the guards' faces as he stepped out onto   
the battlement.   
  
Legolas did not look up when he stopped in front of him and after a moment Gimli   
shrugged, putting down the goblet next to the elf. Then he leaned against the   
breastwork, his eyes searching the fair features of the elf. He did not understand the   
words of the song but there was no need to.   
  
In silence he stood, listening until the last note faded. With a soft smile of gratitude   
Legolas picked up the goblet and sipped the wine, his eyes wandering towards the   
horizon once more.  
  
Gimli's eyes followed his glance, his brow furrowing.  
  
'What is it you see there?'  
  
'A shadow is creeping over the land,' Legolas answered. 'It draws nearer.'  
  
He let out a sigh, his eyes dark.  
  
'Many will fall, Gimli. I sense death looming over this place, and it will claim them.'  
  
'We have faced much where others would despair. Let not your dark mood sway you,   
Legolas.'  
  
'We have lost much,' the elf answered quietly.  
  
'And gained much as well,' the dwarf answered, his voice calm.   
  
Their eyes met for a long moment and finally Legolas smiled.  
  
'Ai, Gimli,' he said. 'You comfort me. And you speak wisely. I will not wallow in my   
grief but wait for the moment I can repay these foul beasts for the hurt they have   
inflicted.'  
  
'Well spoken,' Gimli grinned. 'And I will aid you in this. Your arrows might be swift and   
your knives sharp, but an axe will prove to be a mightier weapon in a fight like the   
one I fear we will face.'  
  
This time, the elf laughed. 'Your words are even mightier than your axe, my friend.   
We will see if they hold true.'  
  
'I will prove it you,' the dwarf responded, accepting the challenge.   
  
Raising his goblet the elf smiled sadly.  
  
'To Aragorn.'  
  
A mug was raised in answer, a silent promise made.  
  
'To Aragorn.' 


	3. Before the Battle

Thanks for those of you who took the time to review! I am glad to hear you like my   
writing… it makes posting much more fun :-)  
  
As always thanks to Little My for beta reading!!!  
  
so, another update for my most faithful reviewers… and yes, there will be more… this   
chapter is just a short interlude, before the battle of Helm's Deep.   
The next one will deal with … oh no, that would be telling :-) … just keep on reading –   
and tell me if you like it…  
  
___  
  
  
They stayed up there in companionable silence, elf and dwarf, each of them grieving   
in his own way for the friend they had lost. They would not be needed in the ongoing   
battle preparations and neither of them felt any desire to return to the halls filled with   
men.  
  
A sharp intake of breath from Legolas roused Gimli from his own musings and he   
raised his head to look at the elf. Legolas's eyes were wide, staring out into the   
distance. Gimli followed his gaze but could make out nothing. Knowing how keen his   
friend's eyes were, he assumed whatever the elf saw was too far away for mortal   
eyes.  
  
'What is it you see?' he asked, repeating his own words spoken not so long ago.  
  
'My eyes must be deceiving me,' Legolas whispered. 'It cannot be.'  
  
'What?'  
  
But still the elf ignored him, eyes fixed on something only he could see.  
  
'Can it be, that hope should be returned to us?'  
  
'You make no sense to me, elf,' Gimli spoke impatiently.   
  
But Legolas did not answer and the dwarf refused to ask again. Instead he watched   
the elf's face closely, strangely touched as the mask of concentration on his fair face   
turned slowly into a brilliant smile.  
  
'Ai!' he cried out, gesturing widely with his arm. 'See for yourself, Gimli, and tell me I   
am not dreaming.'  
  
'Are you not always?' the dwarf grumbled, but still strained his eyes to see what   
would make the elf so agitated.   
  
Just within reach of mortal sight he could see now a dark point, getting closer slowly.  
  
'So what?' he mumbled. 'A rider. One more within these walls will not change the   
odds much.   
  
Yet his own heart lifted without his knowing why as he watched the blur dissolve into   
a horse and a rider. Then suddenly the familiarity of the figure caused his heart to   
skip a beat. He cast a quick glance towards Legolas and the pure joy on his face told   
him the truth.  
  
'It cannot be.' He found himself repeating the elf's words.  
  
'It is, my friend!' the cheerful voice assured him. 'I know not how but it truly is   
Aragorn.'  
  
The sound of elven laughter accompanying these words erased the heavy burden of   
grief Gimli's heart had carried over the loss of their friend. He could see the man   
clearly now--he seemed weary but undeniably alive and his own face broke out into a   
wide grin.  
  
'Then let's give him a fitting welcome!' he roared, his voice startling the guards   
behind them. He turned without waiting for a response to rush towards the stairs.   
Upon seeing the confused expression upon the men's faces as he passed them by,   
he could not restrain himself from calling out to them.  
  
'Give word that Aragorn, son of Arathorn is coming.'  
  
Then he was on his way down the steps, only realizing Legolas was not at his side   
when he was halfway down. He halted, looking back, but could see no trace of his   
friend, nor hear his light step. With a shrug he decided to let the elf do whatever he   
wished. Maybe he had chosen to jump down from the walls to greet Aragorn first.   
Although he doubted even an elf could accomplish that without doing himself serious   
harm.   
  
Joy of seeing his friend alive directed his steps into the wide hall behind the gate,   
eager to see and touch the man, to make sure he was truly there.  
  
@@@  
  
Legolas stayed where he was, even as Gimli left his side to rush and greet Aragorn.   
His eyes never left the man until he had securely passed the gate. Only then did he   
move away, light steps taking him down the stairs.   
  
Yet his eyes had not missed the dark shadow that had spread from the horizon,   
seemingly following the way Aragorn had taken.   
  
He could see Aragorn making his way towards the hall King Theoden was in and   
quick steps brought him directly in front of him. The man stopped just short of   
bumping into him, and lifted his head slowly. Their eyes met--the elf's alight with joy,   
the man's weary. It took a moment ere recognition formed on Aragorn's face, as if his   
mind was too tired to react with its usual speed.  
  
'You are late.'  
  
It was all Legolas could say--words were not enough to express what he was feeling,   
and he slipped into his own tongue as for a moment emotions overcame him. But the   
light in his eyes told it all. Then he let his gaze wander over the man for the briefest   
moment, taking in the wound on his shoulder, the blood and dirt on his clothes. He   
felt the warmth of life as well as the weariness radiating from him.  
  
'You look terrible,' he spoke.  
  
The slightly taken aback look upon hearing the elf's first words changed to one of   
amusement, and a laugh escaped as tenseness suddenly left Aragorn. Their eyes   
met again and the worry on the elf's face changed to simple joy.  
  
The man reached out to place his hand on Legolas's shoulder, the simple touch   
erasing any doubt that might have still lingered in his mind. He was alive and well,   
had taken no severe hurt. Then Legolas's hand slipped into his tunic to find the small   
thing he had stored there.  
  
He could see Aragorn's eyes widen as he gently placed the Evenstar into his hand, a   
soft smile upon his face. For a moment the man stared at the glittering jewelry lying   
on his bloodied palm before he raised his head to once more look at the elf standing   
before him.  
  
'Thank you,' he whispered, using the elven tongue himself. The gaze holding his told   
him without words of the grief his friend had experienced. His hand closed around the   
precious thing that he had believed lost as he felt himself grasped in a tight grip that   
spoke of the relief the elf felt at seeing him.  
  
@@@  
  
'Then I will die as one of them!'   
  
The words cut deeply for they voiced what Legolas truly feared. The dark gaze bored   
into him for a long moment and he could find no words, no answer to this statement.  
  
Then Aragorn's eyes turned away as well as the man himself and he walked out of   
the room.  
  
Despair, hurt and the desire to take back the words that had shaken the man so   
much made Legolas move to follow him, but a hand held him back.  
  
'Let him go, lad.'  
  
Gimli's voice was gentle, holding no accusation.  
  
'Let him be.'  
  
He followed the dwarf's advice and stayed, feeling many eyes upon him, some of   
them angry. He had spoken in his own tongue, as he tended to do when emotions   
overcame rational thought. A good thing or he might have shattered the last remains   
of hope and trust that still lingered within these walls. With a sigh he closed his eyes   
for a moment, feeling weary and drained beyond anything.  
  
The dwarf watched him with concern. He knew not what it was that Legolas had said,   
but the emotion on the face of the usually composed elf had not been hard to read.   
The dark mood he had thought banished seemed to have settled over his friend   
again, despite his brief joy over Aragorn's safe return.  
  
'What is it,' he asked gently as if not to startle Legolas away, 'that weighs on your   
mind so heavily? I would not think it is fear, for you have faced many perils like this   
without losing hope.'  
  
The elf sighed again, slowly opening his eyes. The emotion in them shook Gimli, for it   
was indeed not fear he could read there but pain.  
  
Legolas looked at him but stayed silent for so long that Gimli lost hope of receiving an   
answer at all. He opened his mouth to speak again, to coax the elf into telling him,   
when Legolas suddenly shook his head.  
  
'Not here, Gimli.'  
  
Without hesitation he stood and grabbed the elf's arm, dragging him out of the room.   
Looking around he could find no private place as men, old and young, milled around   
getting ready for the fight.  
  
So he chose the stairs once more that would lead them outside, Legolas following his   
lead without resistance. It seemed that the short exchange of words with Aragorn had   
taken all the fight out of him.  
  
Finally alone and out of the hearing range of the guards, he turned to the elf. The   
dark eyes met his and flickered away again. The dwarf waited patiently, but no words   
came.  
  
'So?' he gruffly probed, wishing to hear what it was that darkened the usually bright   
eyes.  
  
With a sigh the elf shook his head.  
  
'I cannot explain it, Gimli!' he exclaimed. 'It is a feeling, a foreboding that troubles my   
heart. It is what I felt before, ere Gandalf fell and ere Boromir was lost. I know not   
what it is, but it speaks of death. I fear, but not for myself.'  
  
'Folly it would be not to fear in an hour as dark as this,' Gimli responded. His heart   
clenched at the words for he remembered well the elf's warning words in Moria as   
well as on the side of the river Anduin. Both times he had been proven right.  
  
'It is more than this. And I cannot bear the thought…' Legolas's voice faded and for a   
moment he said no more. Then his eyes met Gimli's. 'I should not have spoken to   
Aragorn the way I did. Not when hope is fading already, even from his heart. But I   
cannot help this feeling… things will go ill tonight, and I dread it.'  
  
'This night will cost many lives and who will still draw breath when morning dawns we   
cannot know. But I refuse to believe that we have come this far, faced so much only   
to have it end here. No, my friend, this is a fight too important for us to lose and I   
know it will not happen.'  
  
He smiled at the look on the elf's face.  
  
'It is not a gift of the elves alone to feel what is to come. I know this night will be long   
and dark, but morning will come. And someone will still be here to see it.'  
  
Legolas bowed his head and Gimli could see his rigid stance relax. A deep breath he   
took and as he looked up at the dwarf once more the turmoil in his eyes had calmed.  
  
'Forgive me, my friend', he whispered, 'for my weakness. I did not mean to burden   
you like this.'  
  
A gentle laugh was his answer as the dwarf reached up to clasp his arm.  
  
'There is no need to ask forgiveness for I see no weakness in what you feel. For you   
are still here. You did not leave our side even as doubt filled your heart. Nay,   
Legolas, you are not weak.'  
  
He shook his head in amusement.  
  
'Strange folk, elves are,' he mumbled, but his gaze was fond. 


	4. So it begins

Thanks for the many reviews… I am glad to know that you like this little piece of   
retelling an story we all know quite well !!!  
  
yes, somehow this turned out to be more movie verse than book verse… much more   
:-)… well, I hope you still like it…  
  
and no, I will not forget about 'Encounters with the Past' – promise :-)  
  
so, on with it – and please… let me know if you like it   
  
___  
  
Darkness was falling, swallowing the shadow Legolas had watched crawling closer   
and closer. Around them men were starting to take their positions, making the last   
preparations for battle.   
  
'Come, Legolas,' Gimli spoke. 'It is time for us to prepare ourselves.'  
  
The elf looked at him questioningly, his fingers stroking the bow he held. His   
weapons he had checked, his knives were sharp, his arrows ready. What else was   
there to do?  
  
But he followed his friend as Gimli led him down once more. The dwarf stopped in the   
wide room where weapons and armor were being handed out.   
  
Gimli had worn mail ever since setting out from Rivendell but it was light, made for   
traveling. In a battle like the one they were about to face, he wished for something   
better to protect himself. His eyes wandered over the things he could see and he had   
to suppress a sigh. He should have remembered that men, not dwarves, had made   
this armor. Even if he ignored the lack of craftsmanship he could see in many of the   
items, there was still the problem of size.  
  
He cast a glance at Legolas to see how the elf fared in choosing something, only to   
find him standing there as if this matter was of no interest to him.  
  
'Will you not choose something?' Gimli asked. His voice took on some of the   
frustration he felt, and it came out more a command than an inquiry.  
  
Legolas shot him a slightly annoyed look.  
  
'My people do not…'  
  
'I did not ask what your people usually do, Legolas,' Gimli interrupted the elf's   
speech. He knew well that Thranduil's folk were ill-equipped with armor or weapons   
in comparison with the Eldars of the West. Their losses had been great in the War of   
the Last Alliance because of this Oropher himself was slain and his son Thranduil   
had led back home barely a third of the army that had marched to war.   
  
But no matter what the elves of Mirkwood were used to, he would not see Legolas   
face a battle like this with no more than his tunic to protect him.  
  
'I ask you to choose here,' the dwarf said, his voice more gentle now.   
  
The elf shot him another look but for once refrained from voicing his protest. Gimli   
watched as he let his fingers wander over some pieces, finally choosing one.  
  
A frown appeared on the dwarf's face as he studied what Legolas had chosen. His   
eyes wandered to the slender shoulders.  
  
'This one is too heavy,' he finally said. 'It will hinder you with the bow.'  
  
With a sigh of exasperation Legolas dropped it back, the clattering drawing attention   
to them that both ignored with practiced ease.  
  
Folding his arms in front of him, the elf's expression turned to annoyed amusement   
as Gimli's eyes turned away to once more drift over the assortment. The dwarf's   
fingers started to wander as he quickly checked over several pieces ere he found one   
to his liking. He held the armor out to the elf who stared at it for a moment before   
accepting it. He donned it without a word, not protesting as the dwarf helped him,   
making sure it fit without constricting the elf's movement in any way.  
  
'Aye,' Gimli finally said, plucking at it one last time. 'This one will do.'  
  
An eyebrow rose and Legolas's eyes sparkled as he said, 'You seem much   
concerned over my well-being, master dwarf.'   
  
'Your bow will be one of the mightiest weapons wielded here tonight,' Gimli   
answered. 'I would be a fool to not make sure it will not be rendered useless by your   
carelessness.'  
  
'Careless? I have fought many battles ere you were even born, but it has been a long   
time since someone called me that!'  
  
'Then maybe it is time for you to hear it again.'  
  
Legolas laughed at that, and with relief the dwarf heard the long missed sound. The   
elf was a merry being at heart and never before had Gimli seen him in such a dark   
mood as today. To see the sparkle back in his eyes eased Gimli's own mind.  
  
'Now, let me choose something for you, my friend.'  
  
With a groan, Gimli tried to stop him but found his arms quickly laden with heavy   
chain mail.  
  
'Try this!'   
  
He was about to protest that there was no way it would even fit him, when he saw   
Aragorn enter. He seemed not to take notice of them, his mind focused on something   
entirely different as he started to get dressed for the battle.   
  
Legolas had expected an argument from the dwarf and was surprised as none came.   
Instead he found Gimli's gaze focused on something behind his back, and turned his   
head to see for himself what had captured the dwarf's interest. As he turned back to   
Gimli, the dwarf could see the troubled look in his eyes.  
  
'I need to speak to him,' he whispered and Gimli nodded, stepping away. Having   
nothing else to do he decided to at least try on what Legolas had chosen, although   
he held not much hope.  
  
The man was almost finished with his task as silent steps took Legolas to Aragorn.   
For a long moment the elf stood, watching his friend. Then he reached down to pick   
up the sword Aragorn had laid down and offered it to the man.  
  
Their eyes met. Surprise shone in Aragorn's as he had not heard the elf approaching.   
After a heartbeat he reached out, accepting the offered sword.  
  
'We followed you this far,' Legolas spoke, his voice soft. 'You never led us astray.   
Forgive me, I was wrong to despair.'  
  
He waited, his heart heavy, for the man's response.   
  
A smile broke out on Aragorn's face as he took in the words as well as the slightly   
dejected look upon the elf's face. Thoughts of protest rose, as he remembered well   
decisions made that had led them into situations that could have been avoided, had   
the elf's warnings been heeded. But seeing the trust in the dark eyes before him, he   
realized it did not count. They had followed him to this place and they would face this   
night with him, staying at his side with nothing but loyalty binding them there.  
  
'There is nothing to forgive, Legolas,' was all he could say. The relief on his friend's   
face made him wonder for the smallest moment how he had come to earn such   
friendship and trust.   
  
The strong grip of the elf's hand on his arm spoke of support and strength, and he   
was glad for the small feeling of security it evoked.   
  
A sound broke the moment and both turned to see Gimli stepping forward. It was a   
ridiculous sight, only enhanced when the dwarf let the ends of the mail fall to the   
ground.  
  
'I wish I could have it adjusted.'  
  
They stared at him as he stood, unfazed by the amusement that shone from both   
faces.   
  
'It is a little tight around the chest,' he explained, completely ignoring the fact it was   
long enough to cover him twice.  
  
Legolas's laughter died in his throat as the sound of a horn echoed through the room.   
  
For a moment their hearts stopped.  
  
Then Legolas cried out, 'This is no orc horn!   
  
And without another moment of hesitation the elf darted away, to see with his own   
eyes what his ears had told him. Aragorn was right behind him and within a few   
heartbeats Gimli found himself alone. Looking down at himself he mumbled, 'A good   
thing it is not. I would not have been dressed for the occasion.'   
  
With a sigh, he turned to get rid of the hideous thing the elf had chosen for him. His   
own mail would serve him best.   
  
@@@  
  
It was a glorious sight. No one had seen their approach--the sounding of the horn as   
they stood before the gate the only warning of their arrival.   
  
Haldir stood proudly, dressed in the battle gear of Lothlorien, a hundred archers   
behind him.  
  
His words sounded clear in the silence that had fallen and they lifted many hearts,   
gave hope anew to those who had almost given up.   
  
Aragorn rushed forward to meet him, a warrior's greeting turning into a heartfelt   
embrace that took the elf completely by surprise. It spoke much of the doubt that had   
started to wear on the man.  
  
Legolas's greeting was more restrained, but his eyes spoke of the joy he felt upon   
seeing his own kin joining them in this fight.   
  
Gimli arrived, dressed in his own gear once more, just in time to hear Haldir's words.  
  
'We are proud to fight on the side of men once more.'  
  
He took in Legolas standing tall next to the Lorien elf. Men looked at them in wonder;   
it had been a long time since elves had joined them in any kind of battle. Had the   
arrival of one elf astonished them, so the sight of a hundred filled them with awe.  
  
But night had fallen and the battle was drawing nearer. Already they could feel the   
ground beneath their feet shaking as ten thousand continued their march against   
Helm's Deep.  
  
@@@  
  
Positions were taken, last instructions spoken.   
  
Legolas had taken his place in front of the elven archers, staying close to his kin. Yet   
he stood not with them but a little apart, Gimli at his side. His eyes wandered over the   
advancing army, too many to count. The evil they emitted seemed to wash over   
everything, attacking the mind and evoking terror.   
  
But for the men in this fortress it was no longer a fight between good and evil, it was   
a fight for survival, and in Legolas's experience a desperate adversary is a much   
more dangerous one. The hundred elven archers had given hope and as they stood,   
tall and proud, men stood next to them with newfound determination.   
  
The feeling of foreboding still tugged at his mind, but as anticipation for the battle   
filled him it became easy to ignore. Whatever would come to pass, he would face it.  
  
'You could have chosen a better place,' the dwarf complained, the height of the   
breastwork concealing his view of the enemy. He did not miss the smirk on the elf's   
face but chose to ignore it. He could have found a better place himself, one that   
would allow him to see, but that would have meant leaving the elf. And he found   
himself far more comfortable in the calm presence beside him that in that of any   
other.  
  
'May whatever brings you luck, lad, last the night,' he spoke, a heartfelt wish to his   
comrade.  
  
He could sense Aragorn stepping behind them, looking out towards the dark masses   
advancing towards them.  
  
'Your friends are with you, Aragorn,' Gimli could hear the elf say, and it voiced all he   
could have said himself.  
  
'May they last the night as well,' he added, the soft chuckle it evoked from the elf   
beside him lessening his own tension.  
  
Then the rain started to fall.  
  
Deprived of sight, Gimli could only hear the sound of Saruman's creatures getting   
closer.  
  
'What is happening?' he growled out in frustration, his eyes turning to Legolas.  
  
'I could describe it to you,' the elf offered, turning his head to look at him. His wet hair   
was plastered to his head, drops of rain running down his face, but his eyes shone   
with a mixture of battle-lust and mischief. 'Or would you have me bring you a box?'  
  
For a moment they stared at each other, then Gimli let out a laugh. Trust the elf to   
tease him in the worst of moments.   
  
'So you would have something to hide in when my count tops yours?' he shot back,   
but whatever answer he might have received was drowned out by the rising voices of   
the creatures standing before Helm's Deep.  
  
And then it began.  
  
@@@  
  
He had lost sight of Legolas again. Not that he was worried, no. He only wished to   
compare counts, to see if he had finally topped the elf.   
Gazing around, he could not make out the familiar form.  
  
Well then, he would increase his count a bit more.  
  
With that thought, he turned to the battle once again, his axe finding another target   
easily. Thirty-four.  
  
@@@  
  
'Legolas! Bring him down!'  
  
His eyes quickly found what Aragorn spoke of. The arrow hit, but the orc was not   
stopped so easily.   
  
'Kill him, Legolas!'   
  
Another arrow had already been fired, its aim once again true. But the orc kept on   
running, the torch in his hand ablaze. The next arrow missed as the target suddenly   
flung itself forward, towards the wall.  
  
And then an explosion rocked the wall.  
  
He could see men that had been standing on top of it falling with the hunks of stone,   
Aragorn among them. Uruk-hai rushed into the breach and for one dreadful moment   
all seemed lost.   
  
Legolas stood frozen, wide eyes on the still form of the man. Only when he saw him   
stir did conscious thought return to him. A quick glance around and his bow sang   
again, hardly slowing the advance of the beasts.  
  
But then Aragorn was on his feet again and at his cry, the elves of Lothlorien came to   
defend the wall that no longer could keep the enemy out.  
  
It was the sight of Gimli amongst them that made him move, acting without much   
thought as he used a shield to get down the stairs as quickly as possible.   
  
He could not let the dwarf face this alone. He might top his count, after all.  
  
@@@  
  
'Get back!'  
  
An order he would have ignored had it not been for Legolas grabbing him and bodily   
carrying him off, with the help of another elf. Gimli fought their grip, looking back at   
the fight still going on behind them. What he saw there made him lose his voice.  
  
In midst of the bodies of his fallen allies, Haldir of Lorien sank to his knees.  
  
Aragorn's cry made Legolas whip around, his grip on Gimli loosening. Gimli could   
see his eyes widening, his mouth opening in a cry of denial. He turned and had the   
dwarf not grabbed him, he would have dashed back.  
  
'No, you fool of an elf! There is nothing you can do!'   
  
For a moment Legolas seemed not to heed his words, his strength fighting against   
Gimli's. But the dwarf was not ready to let him go, knowing it would be madness to go   
back there.   
  
Then Legolas went still and Gimli knew that reason had returned to the elf, and he   
relinquished his hold on him. He could not see his face as he turned away from the   
battlefield to make his way inside.  
  
Aragorn was the last one to retreat; all others had followed his order to get back into   
the fortress.   
  
@@@  
  
The wooden gate had been destroyed by battering rams and the situation was dire.   
  
For a long moment Legolas's eyes met Gimli's. Then he turned and left, the elven   
archers following his command. Their bows would be of more use from the top of the   
Hornburg than in here. 


	5. Victory

The last part of this story… I want to thank all of you for the many reviews and nice   
words. It made writing and posting this story much fun :-)  
  
I hope you liked it and for all of you who asked – yes, the next part of 'Encounter with   
the Past' will come soon :-)  
  
Thanks to Little My for beta reading!!!  
  
On with the story… and let me know if you like it!!!  
  
___  
  
  
Victory.  
  
Never before had this single word meant so much. Never had it been so unexpected   
to hear it. But Gandalf had come and with him the Rohirrim, turning the tide of the   
battle when all seemed lost.  
  
Gimli paused, his eyes taking in what the dark of the night had covered. Now the first   
rays of the sun revealed the bitter sight of what had taken place here during those   
last hours.   
  
Dead bodies covered the ground. The smell of blood was thick in the air and heavy   
on the dwarf's mind.   
  
So much death.  
  
But the hosts of Isengard had fled. The battle was over.  
  
Without conscious thought his eyes sought his friends whom he had not seen since   
they rode out of the Hornburg in one last desperate attack. He had blown the great   
horn, only joining the fight once more when he heard the shouts that spoke of   
Gandalf's arrival.   
  
Gandalf was easy to make out, and next to him were King Theoden and Aragorn. He   
saw other, vaguely familiar faces but the one he was looking for he could not find. His   
heart started to beat a bit faster as weariness once more fled his tired bones.   
Anxiousness filled him. The elf had been on Arod, riding out with the others but he   
could not see him with them now. Horses looked all the same to him so he was not   
able to tell if Arod was among the other mounts.   
  
Where was that elf?  
  
He could not have fallen, Gimli decided. Not when victory had been so near already.   
Yet there was a tiny spark of doubt that filled his heart with fear.  
  
'Gimli!'   
  
He had not heard him approach and almost jumped at the voice coming so suddenly   
from behind him. But he recovered quickly and deep relief filled his eyes when he   
turned to face his friend.  
  
'Forty-two, master Legolas!' he cried. 'Alas! My axe is notched: the forty-second had   
an iron collar on his neck. How is it with you?'   
  
'You have passed my score by one,' answered Legolas. 'But I do not grudge you the   
game, so glad I am to see you on your legs!'  
  
The elf's eyes sparkled at him, not hiding his own joy at seeing the dwarf well. He still   
held his bow although his quiver was empty and there was blood smeared over   
clothes and skin. But the elf stood tall and Gimli's eyes found no injury, the blood that   
of his foes and not his own.  
  
Yet there was a sadness surrounding him that stood in stark contrast to the cheers   
that arose around them.  
  
'Morning has come,' Gimli spoke.  
  
'Aye, it has. But how many eyes are not able to see it?' Legolas sighed.  
  
The dwarf had no answer, and they stood in silence.   
  
'The land has changed,' the elf suddenly whispered, his long hand gesturing towards   
the North.   
  
Gimli quickly saw what it was Legolas spoke of: where before the green dale had   
lain, its grassy slopes lapping the ever-mounting hills there now a great forest   
loomed. Great trees, bare and silent stood, rank on rank, with tangled bough and   
hoary head; their twisted roots were buried in the long green grass. Darkness was   
under them.  
  
'What is this wizardry?' the dwarf wondered. Dangerous these woods seemed to him,   
and not only because they had appeared out of nowhere.   
  
'Nay, Gimli,' Legolas answered and there was awe in his voice as Gimli had never   
heard before. 'This is no wizardry, but a power, much older than even my people.'  
  
He could make naught of the elf's words and cast him a questioning glance. The   
wonder on his friend's face made him smile. But then, as quickly as it had come, it   
disappeared.   
  
'There is still much to do,' Legolas spoke and turned away from the sight. Ere Gimli   
could speak the elf had left his side, nimble feet passing over fallen bodies as if they   
did not even touch them.  
  
'So we meet again, master dwarf.' A voice turned Gimli's attention from the retreating   
elf before he could make up his mind to follow him.  
  
'So it seems, Eomer, son of Eomund,' Gimli answered, bowing in greeting. 'And I   
dare say you came not a moment too early.'  
  
The man smiled and returned the bow. 'Your deeds in this fight will not be forgotten,   
Gimli, son of Gloin,' he answered with a smile. 'It gladdens me to see you well, as   
well as your companions.'  
  
@@@  
  
Legolas's heart was heavy as he made his way through the battlefield. His bow was   
secured to his back--he would not need it for the task that lay ahead of him. His steps   
became slower as he reached the area he had sought, his eyes searching the   
ground. With a small sound of dismay he finally sank to his knees next to the prone   
form on the ground.   
  
Any hope that he might still have carried died at seeing the lifeless eyes of Haldir of   
Lorien. Still his fingers searched for any sign of life, although his heart knew he would   
find none. For a long moment he remained unmoving, his tangled hair concealing his   
face as he bowed his head in a sign of deepest grief. During their long stay in   
Lothlorien he had come to know and respect Haldir. His heart ached for the loss of a   
friend.  
  
Then Legolas's fingers wandered from the elf's neck up to the eyes that saw no more   
and gently closed them. A strand of silver blond hair matted with blood was brushed   
away from the pale face. Then he altered his position and slipped his arms under the   
still form, gently lifting him as he stood. He carried him away from the place of death,   
finding a spot a bit away where the ground had not been trampled and grass still   
grew. Sinking down on one knee, he lowered the body down. Then he rose again to   
go and get Haldir's weapon, the sword that had fallen from the elf's grasp as death   
claimed him.   
  
He noticed the elves of Lothlorien had joined him, numbering only twelve, and his   
heart clenched as he stood and watched them searching the grounds for their dead.   
Each one was carried to the place Legolas had chosen, and laid down in the grass   
with their weapons close by. Only twelve out of one hundred had survived. So many   
lives gone; immortal lives lost in this dark night.  
  
They worked in silence first until one voice rose in a lament, soon joined by others.   
Legolas noticed men watching them, but staying away--not intruding as the elves   
gathered their fallen, separating them from the carcasses of the foul beasts.   
  
Their task finished, the elves gathered around the bodies, their clear voices raised in   
song, beautiful and haunting at once in its deep sadness.  
  
Gimli stood quietly, his heart heavy as he watched the elves grieve. He more felt than   
saw Aragorn step up next to him.  
  
'Heavy was their loss,' the dwarf mumbled. But deep inside there was a selfish   
feeling of relief in him that one certain elf was not among those that had fallen--relief   
that almost overwhelmed his grief over those who had been slain.  
  
'Aye,' Aragorn answered, his voice filled with sadness. 'Yet we would not have lasted   
this night without their aid.'  
  
It was easy to make out Legolas among the elves, as he alone wore not the armor of   
Lorien. The dwarf's gaze fixed on his friend, and as if feeling his eyes the elf turned   
his head to look at him. For a long moment their eyes met, ere he turned away again.   
But Gimli knew he understood--knew the dwarf shared his grief.  
  
Weariness made itself felt as each muscle in the dwarf's body screamed for rest.   
Casting one last glance around, he decided he was no longer needed. Aragorn   
sensed the change in him, seeing his shoulders slump in exhaustion.  
  
'Come, my friend,' he spoke, laying a hand on the dwarf's shoulder. 'It is time to rest.'  
  
In silence they made their way back to the fortress to find a place to lay their aching   
bodies down in badly needed sleep, the melody of the elven song following them.  
  
@@@  
  
When he woke he felt much rested, and food and drink did much to help in regaining   
his strength. He saw no trace of Legolas, nor of any other elf, and so he wandered   
outside to look for him.  
  
He found them where he had last seen them, and this time he did not hesitate to walk   
over to his friend. He was concerned for the elf—he had to be weary; even his   
endurance had been tried hard during these past days.   
  
As he approached the grieving elves, he half excepted to receive warning glances to   
stay away, and words that would tell him he was not welcome here. But none came.   
He passed them by, bowing his head in silent greeting and to his surprise they   
greeted him back.   
  
Legolas knelt in silence next to Haldir's body, another elf sitting next to him who Gimli   
recognized. In the dark of last night he had not seen the faces of the elves that had   
come to their aid but now he knew him to be Rumil, Haldir's brother. Grief was so   
deeply etched on his fair face that Gimli could not stand to see it, and he turned his   
gaze to Legolas. He seemed calm, but the dark eyes rising to meet Gimli's were filled   
with sadness.  
  
'Legolas,' the dwarf spoke softly, not wishing to intrude but feeling the need to offer   
comfort. But words failed him to voice the loss he felt. It never occurred to him that it   
might be a strange thing for a dwarf to feel such pain over the death of elves.  
  
'Gimli.' Legolas's voice was soft and for some time he did not move or speak further.   
Then suddenly, as if waking from a dream he shook his head and with one graceful   
movement he stood, gathering his bow and quiver he had placed in the grass close   
to him. He spoke some words in the melodious tongue of his own people to Rumil,   
who only nodded. Then he turned to Gimli and the two friends quietly walked away.  
  
'You have not rested,' the dwarf finally said.  
  
'Time to rest will come. Tonight I needed to be here,' Legolas answered.  
  
Gimli did not object. He led the elf to the table where he had taken his own meal,   
feeling relief at seeing Aragorn there. If he could not coax the elf into eating, the man   
surely could. The dwarf feared the elf's grief as he had witnessed before the extent it   
could take. It was a bitter memory that Haldir had been the one to help then, when he   
had not known what to do to ease Legolas's pain.  
  
'I will go and clean myself up,' Legolas spoke before they reached the table. As blood   
still stained his clothes Gimli had to let him go, but concern filled the gaze that   
followed the elf as he moved away.  
  
'Worry not,' Aragorn's voice spoke up. 'He will recover. This time he did not swallow   
his grief but instead let it out.'   
  
He smiled at Gimli, the dwarf's obvious concern over Legolas another sign of how   
deep the bond between these two unlikely companions had grown.  
  
'I hope so,' Gimli grumbled. 'I do not wish to see him overwhelmed by it again. Once   
was more than enough.'  
  
No, he rather would have the lighthearted elf back, who ran over snow to talk with the   
sun.   
  
'Elves grieve deeply, my friend, but they recover quickly. He will never forget the pain   
he feels, but he will not dwell on it.'  
  
The dwarf nodded, his heart eased as he knew this to be true. His friend would soon   
be back to his former self, annoying him to no end. It made him smile despite the   
knowledge that although they had survived this night and won this battle against all   
odds, there was still much they would have to face.  
  
He saw Legolas approaching them once more, noticed the light step and the clear   
eyes of the elf, and in this moment he felt for the first time the euphoria of the victory   
they had achieved wash through him. The night had passed and they were still alive   
to greet the morning. 


End file.
